


The Wedding

by Jajajaja



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/M, Fluffiness, GW2017B, M/M, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 08:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11687562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jajajaja/pseuds/Jajajaja
Summary: Ian and Mickey plan a secret wedding—a simple ceremony at the courthouse. But of course, their families are nosy and lovingly-involved as hell.





	The Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if it's obvious, but I have never gotten married, so I apologize for any factual inconsistencies with the court process. Also, this is my first time writing mature content, so *blushes* sorry

  
"Get up," Ian said, smacking Mickey's bare ass where it peeked from the covers.

Mickey mumbled indistinctly into the pillow and rolled away from Ian.

"Hey," Ian said. He grabbed Mickey leg and shook it. "Asshole, we're on a schedule." Ian got out of bed and trailed towards their bathroom. "Better be up when I get back," he warned.

Mickey pressed his face hard into the pillow. An embarrassing, ridiculous smile threatened to overtake his face and he was helpless to stop it. He heard the shower creak on and the water falling with a steady pitter-patter. He liked evening showers; Ian liked morning showers. Scheduling shower sex was a nightmare they didn't bother with, save for the rare occasion.

He took a deep breath and heaved himself up. He sat on the corner of the bed and lit himself a cigarette. The first drag of smoke hugged his soul and he left the room. Breakfast, his brain supplied, and Mickey set a frying pan onto the stove. He took the butter and some eggs out of the fridge.

He let the cigarette dangle from his lips as he cracked the eggs into a bowl. He began beating them fiercely with a fork, when the front door creaked open. Mandy stepped inside. Her heels were clutched in her right hand and her jacket was thrown over her left shoulder. Her makeup was noticeably smudged and her hair was noticeably messy.

"Walk of shame?" Mickey asked with a smirk.

"Nothing shameful about it, assface," Mandy retorted. She set down her things and took out the bottle of cranberry juice from the fridge. Mickey watched her pour a tall glass and take a few large gulps.

"You want eggs?"

"Uh?" Mandy said, looking up, "yeah, thanks."

Mickey cracked two more eggs into the bowl and continued to beat them. The house was quiet, save for the sounds of Mandy's drinking, the eggs' beating, and the faint sounds of the shower running. Mickey looked up from his work and glanced at his bedroom door. The KEEP THE FUCK OUT sign was still prominently displayed, but now it was more of a joke between him and Ian than an actual threat.

Looking at the sign, Mickey's face started to smile. He remembered a gangly, teenaged Ian storming into his house and into his life, demanding that goddamn gun back. Mickey didn't think he'd ever be as happy to have stolen something he didn't even get to keep.

He woke up from his reverie to see Mandy giving him a weird look. Mickey realized he had been smiling and staring off into the distance, while his hands still worked on the eggs. He tried to school his face back into a scowl, but it just wasn't cooperating. He picked the cigarette out of his mouth and smothered it in the ashtray closest to him.

"Need another smoke," he said to Mandy, in a frustrated voice that didn't match the happiness on his face.

"Okay, weirdo," she said, taking over the breakfast preparations.

Mickey opened his bedroom door to find Ian naked and toweling off.

"No, you can't see me naked," Ian said, wrapping the towel back around his lower half.

"Cut the bullshit, Gallagher," Mickey said, sitting down in the middle of their bed. He was still only wearing a pair of Ian's boxers. He reached over to the nightstand and lit another cigarette. Ian reached to grab it from him and took a few puffs.

Mickey leaned back on his hands and watched Ian appreciatively. He blatantly checked out his boyfriend's toned abs and muscular arms. Drops of water rolled out of his hair and down his neck. Mickey imagined licking them off, and getting a face-full of Ian.

Mickey kneeled on the bed and moved over to the edge where Ian was. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth and took a drag. He blew the smoke back into Ian's face. Mickey put the cigarette back between Ian's pink lips and slowly peeled back the towel around his hips.

"Can't see the bride before the wedding," Mickey said. "No bride, no problem." He let the towel fall in a pool around Ian's feet.

"But I was saving myself for marriage," Ian whined with a fake pout.

"Well, you almost made it, chief," Mickey said, looking up at Ian with fake sympathy. "I'm sure God will understand. I mean, look at me, it's not your fault you can't resist."

Ian smirked and broke character. Mickey smiled back.

"C'mon," Mickey said, grabbing Ian's hips.

"Yeah, yeah," Ian said. He stepped away for a second to put the cigarette out on the ashtray on their dresser. He pushed Mickey back into the bed and he landed on his back with bounce. Ian quickly stripped Mickey of his boxers and joined him on the bed, straddling his hips.

Ian leaned forward to meet Mickey in a kiss. He could never get over how soft Mickey's lips were, especially when Ian's were constantly in a state of chapped or kinda chapped.

Mickey's hands creeped down to rest lightly at Ian hips. Ian broke the kiss to study Mickey's face. Mickey looked up at him, with his mouth a little open, ready and waiting for Ian's next move. Ian moved his hand gently through Mickey's short hair. He brushed Mickey's jaw with the backs of his fingers and smiled. Ian cradled Mickey's head with one hand and supported his own weight with the other, and resumed their kiss.

Their tongues tangled and fought for control. Ian moved from Mickey's mouth to kiss down his neck and jaw. He bit lightly at the column of his neck and started sucking, bruising Mickey in the way that he loved.

"Ay," Mickey said, slapping Ian away when he had gather back enough of his senses. "I'm gonna look fucking diseased in the pictures. Cut it out."

"Okay," Ian said with a smile. Of course Mickey would do something adorable like care about their wedding pictures. He smacked a loud kiss onto Mickey's cheek, and buried his face into Mickey's shoulder.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Mickey's chest and Mickey instinctively wrapped his arms around Ian's waist. Ian slowly flipped them over so that Mickey laid on top of him. Ian bucked his hips experimentally and drew a surprised groan out of Mickey. Ian chuckled, and Mickey shut him up by sticking his tongue in his mouth. Mickey kissed down Ian's neck and chest, pausing to lick Ian's nipples and blow.

"Fucker," Ian breathed out, as a shiver ran through his body.

Mickey continued his path down, ignoring Ian's hard cock. He grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin of Ian's inner thigh. He sat up to take Ian's cock in his hand. Mickey swiped the precum from the tip to slick up his hand. His pumped his hand slowly up and down the length.

"I was thinking," Mickey said.

"Uh huh."

"Maybe we save our best moves for later. Ya know, after."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, whatever," Ian said. "Just do *something.*"

"Don't worry, Princess Peach," Mickey said, patting Ian's hip, "I'll take care of you."

Without warning, Mickey swallowed as much of Ian's cock as he could take.

"Fuck," Ian choked out. He hit the bed with his fist. Mickey hummed around Ian's cock before pulling off with an obscene pop. He licked a stripe up the underside of Ian's cock then sucked on the tip, tonguing the slit. A few minutes later, Mickey had Ian shooting down his throat with a choked gasp. Coming down from the high, Ian had the good sense to flip them back over. Mickey kissed Ian thoroughly, letting him taste himself.

Ian kissed and bit his way down Mickey's body. Mickey's cock was hard and leaking with neglect. It didn't take much for Ian to finish him off. Ian flopped down next to Mickey then turned to look at him.

"Great, now I gotta take another shower," Ian said. He flipped closer to Mickey and kissed his neck. "But you're cute, so I can't stay mad at you." Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's waist and tucked his own head under Mickey's chin. Mickey wrapped his arms around him in response and dropped his face down into Ian's hair, not quite kissing him, but not quite not.

"Can I join you?" Mickey mumbled into Ian's hair. "You're kinda cute too." Ian could feel every rumble of Mickey's voice against his chest.

"Duh," Ian said,tightening his grip around Mickey, "just don't tell my boyfriend."

"No problem," Mickey said with a chuckle. There was that stupid smile happening on his face again. Right now, Mickey couldn't be bothered to care; it's not like anyone could see it anyway. He would have been pleased to know that Ian was sporting a similar look, had he seen Ian's face.

They laid there for a while, just enjoying each other's breathing and the silence. Finally, Ian dragged Mickey into the shower, which resulted in even more of the same tomfoolery. They left their bedroom with Mickey in a sleeveless tshirt and baggy jeans, and Ian in a light hoodie and some cargo shorts. Each man's hair looked suspiciously nice for the clothes he was wearing.

They moved towards the front door, but not before catching Mandy's attention.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, setting her phone down on the dining table.

"Uhhhh, out?" Ian said, turning around, but with his hand still on the door knob.

"Why'd you many so many fucking eggs then,  
Mickey?"

"I don't know," Mickey snapped back.

"What am I supposed to do with all these eggs?" she asked, waving her hand at the large plate of scrambled eggs in front of her. Ian started slowly opening the door and tiptoeing out.

"Yev and Svetlana. Or just shove 'em under Colin and Iggy's noses, they'll eat anything."

"Ugh," Mandy said clearly frustrated, "where are you even going?"

"Errands," Mickey said, already out the door. He slammed it behind him, missing Mandy's exasperated groan.

"IHOP, IHOP, IHOP," Ian singsonged as they walked shoulder to shoulder towards the L.

Mickey swatted Ian's chest with the back of his hand.

"Kidding. Goin to Denny's. ' _Murica's_ dinner."

"Just shut up."

Two grands slams later, they found themselves at the dry cleaner's. They had rented their tuxes from a suit rental place. Remembering the horror stories from Carl's prom, they decided that an extra cleaning wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Hey, can we used your fitting room to change?" Ian asked Mr. Cheng. "Please."

"Yes, but one at a time," Mr. Cheng said, looking up over the top of his reading glasses. "No funny business in my store."

"Sir, yes, sir," Ian said, standing at attention and holding a salute.

Mr. Cheng rolled his eyes. "He is an idiot," he said to Mickey. Ian started walking towards the room.

Mickey shook his head as he watched Ian leave. "I know." Mickey had to pretend to notice something interesting outside the front window because he couldn't stop smiling at Ian's shenanigans. Mr. Cheng had been their dry cleaner for their rare fancy occurrences in the past years, so he was used to Mickey's lack of talkativeness. He got plenty of talk from Ian.

Mickey had already seen Ian in his suit. They had gone out to rent them together, but his heart still skipped a beat because of the man before him. Ian was a beautiful person; it was an indisputable fact, but being reminded of it like this was something else.

"Your turn," Ian said, holding the curtain back for Mickey.

"Thanks," Mickey mumbled. Ian slapped  
his ass as he walked into the fitting room and Mickey jerked his head around with a face of scandalized shock. Ian shrugged and walked back to the counter where Mr. Cheng was working.

"How're the grandkids, Mr. Cheng?" Ian asked, leaning on the counter.

"They're fine. They're sad that spring break is over."

Ian chuckled. "Can't blame 'em. I'd be too."

"How is Yevjeny?"

"He's fine. Great," Ian said. "We took his uncle's dog out for a walk yesterday, and could barely make it around the block 'cause it was so hot."

"Hmm, the heat," Mr. Cheng said nodding. "Too hot for April."

"I can't believe the president is *still* trying to deny global warming."

Mr. Cheng shrugged. "It is what it is. Weather changes, we can't do much about it."

"I guess," Ian sighed.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't really be getting into an impassioned debate about greenhouse gases and melting polar ice caps with his dry cleaner.

"I'm marrying Mickey today," Ian told Mr. Cheng.

"Oh, yeah," he said, not looking up from his work, "I wouldn't have guess from the tuxedos." Ian smiled sheepishly. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah. Hey, you wanna be a witness?" Ian asked randomly.

He looked up at Ian like he had sprouted a second head. "And who would watch my store?"

"Oh, right," Ian said, "work."

"Yeah, *work*."

Mickey picked that moment to emerge from the fitting room. He had his regular clothes clutched in one hand an a scowl on his face, but he was still stunning.

"I think I fucked up my hair," he said, reaching the counter.

Ian stood up straight and inspected Mickey's hair. He brushed a lock that was dangling over his forehead back into place. "Nope, still prefect," he said before pecking Mickey's cheek.

"Enough of you," Mickey said, pushing a chuckling Ian away. "What do I owe you?" he asked, jerking his chin at Mr. Cheng.

"No charge. Think of it as my wedding gift to you."

"You told him!" Mickey said, slapping Ian in the stomach.

"Yeah," Ian said, looking down like a guilty child.

"You said we weren't gonna tell anybody."

"I know," Ian whined, "I just couldn't help it. Asked him if he would be a witness..."

"Ian!" Mickey said, giving Ian another well-deserved swat.

"He said no," Ian continued.

"You said no?" Mickey asked.

Mr. Cheng sighed exasperatedly. "What do you people think that I do all day? This is my job. I work!"

"Right. Well, thanks for the free dry cleaning, man," Mickey said, "really cool of you."

"Yeah, thank you!" Ian said as they left. "Have a great day!"

"Congratulations," Mr. Cheng said, returning Ian's wave.

"Thank you!"

The glass door swung closed and Ian joined Mickey as they walked across the parking lot to the sidewalk.

"Fucking hate having to carry this around," Mickey said, waving a fistful of clothes.

"Should've asked Mr. Cheng for a bag," Ian said.

"Can you do it?"

"No."

"Why not? You guys are all buddy buddy."

"Yeah, but he likes you more," Ian said.

"Pfft, yeah right."

"He relates to the aging asshole trapped inside of your young hot body." Mickey rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm not gonna do it," Ian said, crossing his arms with finality.

Mickey have a long sigh. "Why are you such an asshole all the time?" he said, as he marched back towards the dry cleaner's.

"Back so soon," Mr. Cheng said, as the bell in the doorway alerted him of Mickey's presence.

"Can I get a bag," Mickey asked, "please?"

He fished one out of the shelf underneath the counter.

"Thanks," Mickey said, stuffing his clothes in the bag.

"You two are very good together," he commented.

"Yeah," Mickey said, glancing at Ian outside, "I'm lucky."

"He is too. You are good for each other. I see it when you come to my store. You cannot fake it."

Mickey shrugged. "Well, thanks for the bag," he said, holding it up. "Gotta get going."

"I wish you kids lots of luck and happiness," Mr. Cheng said.

"Thanks. I'll see you around, man."

Mr. Cheng held out a few fingers in goodbye.

"You get the bag?" Ian asked outside.

"Yup." Ian tried to grab it out of his hand. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Uh... putting my clothes in the bag?" Ian said.

"Get your own bag, bitch."

\---------------

They sat on the L with a bag full of both of their clothes comfortably nestled on the ground between Mickey's feet.

\----------------

  
At the court house, they were easily able to find their way back to the judge's chambers. On the benches outside, there were couples waiting, evidently Judge Walker's 11:00 and 11:20 appointments. As Mickey and Ian sat down to wait, the judge's door opened and a beaming couple left hand in hand. The pair on the bench across from Mickey and Ian stood up and went into the room. The 11:00 appointment, apparently.

"I like your dress," Ian said to the woman sitting next to him.

"Thanks!" she said, smoothing out the white fabric. "I tried to keep it as traditional as possible, you know, even with a court house wedding." Ian nodded and smiled. "Why'd you two decide to go courthouse?"

"Didn't wanna make a big deal of it. I mean, we've already got the commitment part down, it's just on paper now. Plus it's kinda expensive to get to Vegas."

"I think that's sooo sweet," she gushed. "I wanted a really big wedding. Flowers, cakes, bridesmaids, the works, but we're only nineteen. So of course my parents and his mom don't approve, and we can't exactly bankroll a dream wedding. But when you know, you know, right." She glanced over at the fiancé, and Ian noticed him too for the first time. He had thick-rimmed glasses and a little goatee. His whole being basically screamed nerd.

"I get that," Ian said, nodding.

"How long have you two been together?"

"Shit, like seven years, maybe nine, depending on how you count it."

"Oh, my gosh! You guys have been together forever. How old are you? You don't look that old."

Ian chuckled at her bluntness. "I'm twenty-four. Mickey's twenty-six."

"Oh, fuck," she said, shaking a fist, "I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Julia. This is Morris," she said, gesturing at Morris.

"Ian," Ian said, shaking Julia's hand and then Morris's. "And this is—" he said, turning around to introduce Mickey.

At that moment, Mickey swaggered back down the hallways with snacks in his hands. He stopped in front of Ian and paused to pour some M&Ms into his mouth.

"Got snacks," Mickey said kind of grossly.

Ian looked at the pack of Hot Cheetos in Mickey's other hand. "I can't get married with Cheeto dust on my fingers."

Mickey swung open his suit jacket to reveal a packet of roasted sunflower seeds in the inner pocket. "Bitch, what?" he said smugly.

"That was so hot," Ian said, reaching for the sunflower seeds. "Actually, wait, can you take a picture of us, please?" he asked, already handing his phone to Julia.

"Yeah, of course!" she said. "Here, let's do one against this wall here." She maneuvered Ian and Mickey into a position that she found acceptable and snapped several pictures in quick succession. "I took a photography class last semester," she informed them, and Mickey did his absolute best not to roll his eyes.

"Okay, now do one like you're prom dates. Like that classic—yeah," she said, as they got with the program. "Okay, now do a Charlie's Angels one." Ian and Mickey complied, pulling appropriately menacing faces. "Now duck faces." Julia captured Mickey in a characteristically disgusted and confused face, in the middle of saying 'what the fuck'. "Silly one." Mickey opened his eyes wide and flared his nostrils, letting his eyebrows hike all the way up his face. Ian just barely stuck his tongue out. "Okay, now do a cute one." Before Mickey could react, Ian shot his arms out to wrap around Mickey and kiss his cheek. Mickey pulled away playfully. But in the seconds before, he had squeezed his eyes shut and grinned broadly, and Julia captured it. Apparently she was a photographer worth her salt.

"Thanks," Ian said, taking the phone from Julia's outstretched hand. He held the phone between himself and Mickey as he flicked through the pictures. "This one's my favorite," he said, pausing on the last picture.

"You mean the one where I'm being assaulted?" Mickey said.

"Yes, the one where you're being assaulted," Ian said with a roll of his eyes.

He sat back down on the bench and so did Mickey. Mickey continued to pour M&Ms down his throat and soon Ian was doing the same with the sunflower seeds.

"Oh, shit, did you want me to take picture of you guys too?" Ian asked, already ready to hand off his snack to Mickey.

"No, we're good, thanks," she said. "We took some pictures at the park before we got here. Kelsey did them for us," she said, nodding towards the girl sitting next to Morris.

The door opened and the previous couple exited.

"Looks like we're up," Julia said, standing and reaching for her fiancé's hand. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Ian said with a smile and a wave. Julia, Morris, Kelsey, and the guy sitting next to her all disappeared into the judge's chambers. Witnesses, Ian concluded. And the two found themselves alone in the hallway.

"Thank fuck," Mickey sighed. "Thought that bitch was never gonna shut up."

"She wasn't so bad," Ian said.

"Yeah. Yeah, she was. No one asked for her fuckin life story."

"I thought it was sweet."

"You would, wouldn't you. Jesus Christ." Ian poked Mickey's side. "Quit that," he said, slapping him away. Ian jabbed him again. "Don't start somethin you ain't prepared to finish, asswipe."

"Oh, but I am going to finish," Ian said, turning to face Mickey so that he could employ a two-handed offensive maneuver. He leaned in close to Mickey's ear and whisper, "...all over your face."

Mickey groaned with disgust. "You are a literal child and I've had enough of you." He fit his palm over Ian's face and pushed him away.

"No, not the face!" Ian shrieked with laughter.

Mickey laughed and released his hold on Ian's face. He chuckled then blew out a long breath.

"We're doin it."

"We're fuckin doin it," Ian replied, wriggling a little.

Another couple shuffled down the hallway and took a seat on the bench across from Ian and Mickey's. The woman gave them a polite nod, and the man scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Mickey internally went from lovesick puppy to killer machine in a millisecond, but Ian's gentle knock with his shoulder snapped him out of it. Fuck them, he reminded himself. He was happy; he was good.

There was a long tense silence as they waited, but at 11:40 on the dot, Julia and Morris burst out of the room, all smiles and happy feelings. They left, followed by their friends. Julia paused at the end of the hallway to turn around and wave at Ian.

"Good luck!" she shouted. "You're gonna kill it in there."

"Bye! Thanks," Ian called back. He turned and whispered to Mickey, "okay, maybe I see what you mean."

Mickey scoffed and stood up. He let Ian walk into the room before him and closed the door behind them. They found themselves not actually in the judge's chambers, but in a little administrative staff area. Mickey turned his head to the right and saw the open door to where the judge was.

"Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Milkovich," Judge Walker said, looking down at the paper on her desk. Ian and Mickey nodded. "Great. Do you have any witnesses with you?"

"No, Your Honor," Ian answered for them.

"It's fine. Jack! Melanie!" she shouted out the still open door. "Get in here!" She turned to Mickey and Ian. "Don't worry, they're used to it. Do you have any special poems or additions you would like to include?"

"Nope. Keepin it old school," Mickey said, "...Your Honor."

"Yes, boss?" Jack asked, jogging into the room.

"Party time," she said. "And where's Melanie."

"Right here," Melanie said, shuffling into the room with her cane, and immediately taking the seat against the wall.

"Alright, let's get started," Judge Walker said. "Someone shut the d—"

"On it!" Jack said, skipping to the door.

"Don't mind him," Melanie said, gesturing at Jack. "He's an intern. They're excitable."

Jack laughed good-naturedly and took his post in a corner of the room.

\----------

"Okay, Mr. Gallagher, please repeat after me. I, Ian Clayton Gallagher..."

"I, Ian Clayton Gallagher..." Ian repeated.

"Take you, Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich, to be my lawfully wedded husband..."

"Take you, Milkhailo— Mickey," he said, smiling at Mickey, "Aleksandr Milkovich, to be my lawfully wedded husband..."

"To have and to hold, from this day forward..."

"To have and to hold from this day forward..."

"For better, for worse..."

"For better, for worse..."

"For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..."

"For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..."

"To love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live."

"To love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live," Ian finished, shaking their joined hands with each of the final words.

"Now, Mr. Milkovich, please, repeat after me. I, Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich..."

"I, Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich..." Mickey repeated.

"Take you, Ian Clayton Gallagher, to be my lawfully wedded husband..."

"Take you, Ian Clayton Gallagher, to be my lawfully wedded husband..."

"To have and to hold, from this day forward..."

"To have and to hold from this day forward..." Mickey said, clearing his throat to quell some of the rising emotion.

"For better, for worse..."

"For better, for worse..."

"For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..."

"For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..." he said, squeezing Ian's hands to make sure that he understood the seriousness of those words in particular.

"To love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live."

"To love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live."

"By the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss."

Ian and Mickey slotted their lips together in a simple, but short-lived kiss. They were smiling too much to try any sort of real kissing.

"Excellent, I just need you to sign these here," Judge Walker said, sliding papers and pens towards the two. They clicked the pens and signed. "Great. It's official. Have a great day, you two."

"Thank you," Ian said, shaking her hand firmly. Mickey also offered his hand because he couldn't exactly be the asshole who didn't do it, now that Ian did. "Thank you, guys," Ian said, turning to Jack and Melanie.

"My pleasure," Jack said, and Melanie gave a sort of half nod.

They left the courthouse, and Mickey found that that smile was still fixed to his face. Honestly, he was annoyed with himself. Ian was sporting a similar smile, but Mickey couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed at him. Ian was radiant and beautiful. Ian looked over at his new husband and couldn't help but have the same thoughts: he was breathtaking, beautiful in every sense of the word.

As they turned onto the sidewalk, a silver minivan screeched to stop in front of them. The tinted passenger window rolled down. "Get in the car, bitches," Carl said with a smug smirk.

"I wanted to say that," someone said from the backseat. It was Iggy, maybe Colin.

Carl turned his whole body around to address the voice. "How? The back windows don't even roll down."

The backdoor slid open and Iggy stepped out. He walked around Ian and Mickey so he could more easily push them into the car.

"Just don't resist," Joey shouted from the driver's seat. "Makes it harder."

"That's what he said," Carl said, earning a huge eye roll from Mickey.

"What are you guys doing here?" Ian asked as he and Mickey settled into the third row of seats. He pushed a stuffed animal off of the seat so he could sit down. Iggy reclaimed his seat in the middle row. Next to him was an infant car seat, and on the ground in front of it was a booster seat. The minivan was Joey's, and though he claimed he liberated it so that he could more inconspicuously 'make runs.' Mickey knew that it was really because it was more convenient with his kids, so he only teased him occasionally, like any good brother would.

"What are we doing here?" Joey repeated. Their brothers all laughed together. "What do you think we're doing here?"

"I dunno," Ian said, playing dumb.

"You're not as slick as you think, numbnuts," Iggy said, turning around to point at Mickey.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Mickey said because deny, deny, deny.

"Oh, you mean we didn't just pick you up from your wedding ceremony?" Carl asked.

"Pfft, no," Mickey said, doing his best to look incredulous.

"So that tux you're wearing?"

"What this old thing?" Ian asked. "It's just something I threw on."

Joey adjusted the mirror so that he could point at Ian and Mickey in it. "The jig is up, fuckwads," he said.

"Jesus Christ. If you could not kill us, that would be great," Mickey said.

"Admit it," Carl said loudly. "Admit it." Ian mimed zipping his lips and throwing the key away. "Ian, I won't insult you by saying you're a bad liar, but singing what you're doing as you plan a secret wedding, and leaving your computer open with details about said wedding are generally not a great plan. And, Mickey, you are an absolute shit liar." Joey and Iggy burst out cackling.

"It's true, bro, it's true," Iggy said to a scowling Mickey.

"No, I can say that because you're my brother now," Carl continued. "But that's good for you, Ian. He'll never be able to lie to you."

"Mickey doesn't lie to me," Ian protested.

The brothers burst out laughing again. "He speaks?" Carl said with fake shock.

"So why the fuck are you all here?" Mickey asked impatiently.

"We're taking you to the Alibi," Joey said.

"Yeah, but why are all three of you here?"

"Driver," Joey said pointing at himself, "and muscle," he said, pointing at Iggy.

"And Carl?"

"I just had to get out of there, man," Carl said, running a hand through his hair. "Fiona was driving me insane with the decorating. Can't be part of her half-baked HGTV-wanna-be wet dream. It doesn't matter whether the streamers are two fucking inches to the right or not. No, I don't think we should put lemons in the water. I don't care if it's fancier. It makes the water taste fucking weird."

Iggy nodded sympathetically. He too had had run ins with the bridezilla-by-proxy.

"Congratulations, by the way," Joey said.

"Yeah, congrats," Carl and Iggy joined in.

\-----------------

They opened the door to the Alibi and Kevin yelled, "Surprise!" and threw up the streamers in his hands. Everyone else turned to look at him.

"It's not a surprise party," Debbie said.

"Congratulations!" Fiona said, walking up to Ian and taking his face in her hands so she could kiss his cheek. A second later she did the same to Mickey. Everyone chorused congratulations and lots of hugging followed.

"Thanks, guys," Ian said, "but, Fi, it's like 12:30. How long is this thing supposed to be?"

"Hey, we let you have your fun," Fiona said, "now, we're doin it right. 1:00 is lunch."

"Fancy affair," V added. "Keep the tuxes on."

"But after, we'll all regroup at 7:00 and party the night away, Gallagher-style," Fiona said, earning a whoop from the group.

"And Milkovich-style," Iggy added, throwing a hand into the air, and gaining a second round of cheers.

"Right, shit," Joey said, smacking his forehead with his palm. "Is it Mr. and Mr. Gallagher or Mr. and Mr. Milkovich?"

"Gallagher," Ian said, pointing to himself.

"Milkovich," Mickey said, pointing to himself.

"Haha," Mandy cackled, high-fiving Kevin. "Pay up, bitches!"

"I knew it!" Kevin said.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Lip said, as he and everyone else reached for their wallets.

"Shit, the only way I'm changing my name is if I'm on the run and it's my secret identity," Mickey said.

"I offered," Ian said with shrug.

"Yeah, but then I couldn't call you Gallagher," Mickey said.

"Damn it!" Lip shouted. "So fucking close. Damn you, Mickey."

"Right back attcha, dipshit," Mickey said, giving him the middle-fingered salute.

"Where's Yev? Where're all the kids?" Ian asked.

"Lana has 'em back at the house," V explained.

"So what are we supposed to do until the food?" Mickey asked.

"Well, lunch actually might not be until ready until 2:00," Fiona said, "but we still got a lot of decorating to—"

"Nope," Mickey said, waving his hand. "I ain't decorating shit."

"Same?" Ian said with a guilty shrug.

"Me neither," Carl added.

"Carl," Fiona warned.

"Just kidding."

"So, just hang around until then," Fiona said. "Okay?"

"Okay," Ian agreed, and Mickey nodded.

Fiona wandered away to continue directing the decorating effort.

"Come on," Ian said, grabbing Mickey's hand and leading him up the stairs to the Rub-n-Tug. The world's oldest profession was still a booming side business.

"No, no, no," Mickey said, digging in his heels when they reached the top of the stairs.

"C'mon, you sanitize the beds, right," Ian said, still pulling him.

"Yeah, but no fucking way."

"Okay, how about up against the wall?" Ian suggested. "I've been pushing hard on leg day," Ian said, doing a few little squats in demonstration.

"Wood paneling," Mickey said. "I ain't getting splinters in my ass."

"Okay, how about up against the window?" Ian asked, still cajoling.

"One, Chicago ain't gettin a free show. The only way you see this ass is if your name is Ian Gallagher—"

"Or if you're playing your guitar naked, or if you get shot in the ass, or if you're a particularly grating cop who's getting mooned..."

"Two," Mickey interrupted,"I still maintain that the ass shooting was your fault—"

"How is it my—"

"And three, these windows are cheap as hell, and I am not plummeting to my death for anyone's dick, not even yours, Firecrotch."

"I don't know what you want me to do here," Ian said, throwing up his hands at Mickey's unreasonableness. "We could try the bathroom, I guess."

"Yeah, hard pass," Mickey said, making a face. An idea floated across his eyes and he walked out of the room, leaving Ian.

"Wait, Mickey?" he called after him.

Mickey left the building. Ian jogged down the stairs and looked from side to side. Debbie pointed at the front door.

"We're gonna go pick up the kids," Ian said with some quick thinking.

"Yeah, right," Iggy scoffed after he left.

\-------------------

They reached the Gallagher house in no time.

"I can't believe I'm gonna fuck my husband for the first time in my childhood bed," Ian said as he pushed open the door to Liam's room. All of their old stuff was still there, but Liam didn't seem to mind that much. He got to have some pretty epic sleepovers with his friends. "Kinda feel like we should fuck in your bed, you know, for continuity. Complete the circle."

"Or what?" Mickey asked. "The magic spell is broken and we turn into mermaids at midnight?" Ian laughed as Mickey helped him out of his dress shirt. "This house was closer."

"True," Ian agreed.

\-------------------

"We still got it," Ian said, as he flopped down next to Mickey.

"Was afraid my dick would dry up as soon as we got hitched, but nope."

"Fuck," Ian said, reaching to find some sort of controller digging into his back. "Forgot how small this bed was." He lobbed it across the room onto the bottom bunk.

"We should shower. Get back," Mickey said.

"Yeah," Ian said, draping himself over Mickey's back as they moved into the bathroom, "but don't try anything. Gotta save some juice for the grand finale."

"You saying you can't bounce back, grandpa?"

"Shut up," Ian said, then turned on the shower. A shower, which happen to become a very long bath followed by a shower, complete with heavy making out and a lotta groping.

They got dressed in their regular clothes and decided to check if the kids were still over at Kevin and V's. It was pretty much almost 2:00, and they weren't, so Ian and Mickey high-tailed it back to the Alibi.

"Our guests of honor," V said sarcastically, when they walked through the door.

"Have trouble finding the kids?" Iggy commented.

Other than the late start, the lunch went off without a hitch. Both of their families were invited and they enjoyed a nice meal, courtesy of Debbie and Svetlana. Everything was just really... pleasant. Like, surprisingly pleasant. Pleasant like Fiona had threatened everyone within an inch of their lives if they started shit.

Ian and Mickey used the intermission to take a short nap, just like the children. Waking up really early on your wedding day was really dumb if you didn't have to. Unless it got you head from your now husband, in which case, 10/10 would recommend.

After all the costume changes and set redesign, they all returned to the Alibi to find it transformed and lively. Because Fiona Reed was many things, and an excellent party thrower was still one of them. This time, there were a lot more people, including Ian's EMT work friend, and the few fellow construction workers who Mickey had not yet described oxygen-depleting cum dumpsters. Mandy flirted shamelessly with the many eligible bachelors.

The backdoor of the Alibi swung open with a bang that could be heard even over the loud music. It was Frank with a wild look in his eyes. The entire party tensed as they awaited his next move. Monica stumbled out from behind him with a bottle of champagne. She popped off the cork and took a long sip, drink spilling down her arm and chin.

"Let's fucking party!" she screamed.

The unanimous response was a resounding "Yeah!!"

"What do you want, Frank?" Fiona demanded. Lip was hot on her trail.

"What? I'm celebrating. I'm the father of the groom. I can't even come to my own son's wedding?"

"Who's wedding is it?" Lip asked, crossing his arms.

"The gay one. Who was that...uhhhh, right!" Frank said, snapping his fingers. "Ian," he said smugly, though still kind of swaying on his feet. It was obvious that he had pre-gamed. "And the lucky bride is none other than our favorite little neighborhood thug Mr. Mickey Milkovich," he said triumphantly. "Smart kid, that Ian. Milkoviches push the best blow."

"Damn right," Iggy said, holding up his beer as he walked by.

"A good evening to you, sir," Frank said in response, tipping an imaginary hat. "Now if you'll excuse me," he said pushing past his oldest children, "I have a new business opportunity to pursue. Veronica, dear," he said, "turning around to address her behind the bar, "a bottle of jack and a six-pack of beers to-go, please. Thank you." He started wandering off to find Iggy again. "My new son, tell me about your friends and family discount..."

Fiona and Lip shook their heads at each other.  
"Fucking Frank." But he wasn't doing anything specifically disruptive, so they couldn't throw him out.

On the other side of the room, Monica was plastered all over Ian, giving him hugs, interspersed with kisses.

"Ohh, Ian, baby, you got married," she said.

"Yeah, Mom, I did." He wasn't even that annoyed right now, still riding the high of getting married to Mickey.

"Does he make you happy?"

Ian glanced over at Mickey, who had somehow been strong-armed into dancing with Svetlana. "Yeah, he really does."

"Good. Good," she said, kissing Ian's cheek again. "I just want good things for you, baby."

"He makes me feel good. Whole."

"It's rare," she said wisely, "but I'm glad you found it. You guys have what me and Frankie have."

Ian knew that she meant it as the highest compliment, but he couldn't help but swallow back a little bile that had escaped into his mouth. "Yeah, mom."

"I always liked that Mickey. He's sweet. Go dance with your husband," Monica said, pushing him towards the dance floor.

Ian gave her a kiss and started walking towards Mickey. Monica was the worst kind of charmer. When she was on it, Ian was helpless not to hope for a reliable, loving mother. But when she unfailingly disappointed him, it was more and more tragic each time because, really, how had he not learned his lesson?

Ian joined the dance floor and Mandy immediately swept him away.

"I can't believe you invited your ex-girlfriend to your wedding," she said, as they danced to a slower song.

"I know, right. Kinda tacky of me."

He spun her around and they both giggled.

"In an alternate universe where I'm straight," Ian said, "you and me live in the suburbs with a porch and a tire swing. And we have two kids, and a third one on the way."

"Jesus, so young. My vag must look like a disaster zone."

Ian barked out a laugh and they kept swaying to the music. The rest of the night was filled with dancing and drinking and music. By 10:00, all of the kids had been relocated to the Gallagher house, with the adults on alternating shifts to watch them sleep.

Frank stumbled onto the little stage that had been assembled and grabbed the microphone. "Hey. Hey. Everyone shut up." He sat down at a really rickety-looking piano and Monica scurried onto the stage with him.  
Fiona and V looked at each other in complete bewilderment because the Alibi didn't have a piano, and moving a piano would be pretty difficult to do on stealth mode. Fucking Frank.

Lip sliced through the crowd towards the stage, but Carl caught his arm before he could do anything.

"Okay," Monica said cheerily, as she swung her hands. "Ian, baby, we have a little surprise for you. Hit it, Frankie," she said, turning around.

Frank started playing the opening chords to "Lean on Me" and Monica soon joined in with the lyrics. Monica was a decent singer, and through some mystery, Frank was actually good at playing the piano. It was a bit of a strange choice, but it had everyone singing along. Ian hugged Mickey close and pressed a kiss into his hair as they swayed.  
  
"And now for my speech," Franks said, through the round of applause.

"Nope, nope, nope," Fiona said, climbing the stage and snatching the microphone out of his hand. "By some miracle, you two have managed to pull a nice gesture out of your asses. Don't ruin it."

"This is bullshit. A father can't give a speech at his own son's wedding. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, Fiona. Ian's not getting married thirty billion times like you." Fiona scoffed. "And, and what's more, this is America, right? Well, I'm exercising my freedom of speech to—"

Someone turned the music back on.

"Bullshit!" Frank shouted and threw his beer bottle over his shoulder. It crashed into the TV and cracked the screen.

"Goddamn it, Frank!" Kevin yelled.

"Seems like it's time for my exit," Frank said, leaping off the stage and hurrying towards the back door. "Come on, Moni, let's go."

"Ian, I love you, baby," she shouted from the door. "You too, Mickey. Welcome to the family."

Frank grabbed the two nearest bottles of alcohol that he could find. "Keep the piano as payment," he shouted to Kevin, and they hurried off.

"Thank fuck dad's still in jail," Joey said to Mandy and Iggy next to him.

"To the Illinois justice system," Mandy said, raising her glass.

"Fuck the police!" Iggy said, shooting his drink up into the air.

"Fuck the police!" everyone repeated, save for a few of Ian's very confused colleagues.

A little later into the night, the actual speeches started, with Fiona kicking them off. Mandy followed, and after Kevin's speech, there wasn't a dry eye in the audience. Svetlana finished her speech by saying, "To my two ex-husbands, Желаю вам счастья и долгих жизней," and no one knew what the fuck she was saying, but judging by her face, it seemed to be a kind sentiment.

"So, uh, hi, everyone. I'm Iggy, if you don't know me, Mickey's brother." He scratched his scruffy beard and continued bravely. "Mickey, I'm proud of you, bro. Can't believe you locked it down, but Ian's pretty fucking cool."

"Thanks," Ian said from the audience.

"No problem. So, you know how all little boys are kinda gay. Let me explain," Iggy continued. "When Mickey was little, he would always follow me and Colin around, and try to hang out with our friends. And you know how little brothers are annoying, right."

"Amen," Debbie shouted. Carl gave her a playful shove.

"So anyway, I realized that Mickey was just crushing on like all of these dudes, so I was like suspicious, but what am I supposed to do just point blank be like: dude, you gay? Fuck that. So I watched and waited, but what I should have done was placed some bets because, fuck, I would be a rich motherfucker right now. But anyways, this redhead kid is, like, always at our house now. And then Mickey, all of a sudden, discovers what showering is, and doesn't look grimy as fuck all the time. And he's socializing with this kid, and I catch him smiling sometimes, like he's been doing all fucking day today. Look at him," Iggy said, pointing at Mickey, somewhere near the back of the crowd. Mickey was indeed smiling, and he couldn't be stopped, so he did an even more embarrassing thing and buried his face into Ian's shoulder.

"Ian, I know that I don't have to give you the old scare down because we already cover that shit with Mandy. So, just take care of my bro. But if you do happen to forget, be ready for a smack down," Iggy said, holding out his knuckle tattoos. "Iggy out," he said into the microphone, then swaggered off the stage.

"Give me two shots of vodka," he said to V at the bar.

"You did a good job, honey," she said as she set down his shots.

"Really?" He gulped down the first shot. "I don't remember what the fuck I said." He downed the second one. "All a fucking haze." He swiped his mouth with his sleeve and went off to find his brothers.

"I think we should get going," Ian whispered to Mickey at some point.

"Yeah, probably."

They walked towards the exit, all little drunk but not smashed.

"You leaving?" Lip asked intercepting them at the door. Ian nodded. "Here," he said, handing Ian a paper from his back pocket. The paper had some information for a hotel room for tonight. "Congrats, man," he said, clapping Ian on the back. "You too, dumbass." Mickey raised his customary middle finger.

They turned into the sidewalk with their arms over each others shoulders and walked off. Here's to everything staying good. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, friends. Comments are cool


End file.
